Kids are weird.

Which can be -- if you are a little weird yourself-- kind of vindicating!

One of Elliot's games for the past month or so has been to lie down on the floor. Sometimes on a pillow -- other times, just right on the floor. Sometimes he goes "Ohhhhhh", and if he does, we'll pipe up and say "Ohhhhh" right back to him. Somtimes I'll rub his back. Maybe we tickle him and he hoots.

If he's left alone, he sort of lies there for a moment, and then he gets back up. Maybe he tries a different position. Maybe he goes off to stick his finger up Ada's nose at that point. Who knows. It's the mysterious lying-down game. Blink and you might miss it. Alternately, it might go on for twenty minutes.

Behold Elliot's most recent innovation on the lying-down game: the dishtowel blanket gambit.

P.S. This is exactly what it looks like just before Elliot gives you a smooch.

Reading Matter

Okay, you all must excuse me while I brag on my Dad for a minute. His new book is out!

As if this weren't exciting enough in itself, the book has a very special dedication:

To Elliot, who is the becoming of our future. May he have a long and wonderful journey, filled with chocolate and love.

Congratulations to dad--and let me recommend this book to you, if you are looking for an introduction to process philosophy! And, I must say, if you are reading this, you might very well be interested in an introduction to process philosophy, because it has a lot to say about parenting. Process philosophy, as I understand it, is partly about thinking about the relationship between "being," which is to say, being something and staying that way, and "becoming"--that is, being something that is changing all the time. If you are the parent of an infant, you'll understand the importance of this idea right away, but here is how my dad maps it out in his introduction:

Life is change. I remember Sarah, now thirty, when she was five. What a joy it was to hold her on my lap then--to hug her, read to her, and tickle her. I will never again be able to hold the five-year-old Sarah on my lap. But that is the price I must pay to have the thirty-year old Sarah be married to Brandon and give birth to Elliot. I will never again teach the six-year-old Mark to swim, but that is what must happen for the twenty-five year old Mark to be living in Argentina with Abbey, making me laugh out loud with his travel blog. Life is simply change--becoming and perishing. The joy of life is in the journey.

This book is a naturalistic view of process philosophy, but Dad has also written a guide to process theology, if that is more up your alley. An awful lot of people in my life have told me how much this book meant to them, after they read it with a church group or wherever, and you might like it too.

I must also tell you that in the same package with Dad's new book came a bundle of cookies, made by my mama, who every valentine's day sends me heart-shaped sugar cookies with pink frosting. Elliot was interested in dad's book, but dad will understand Elliot's wisdom in choosing a cookie, rather than the book, to console himself with when he fell down and whopped his head. These cookies are just as articulate as anything I've ever written or read, and mama, let me tell you that they are speaking to me loud and clear.

Back to our regularly scheduled program!

I would just like to say that when  you are trying to multitask and get the bebe to daycare while also walking the dog, and it is snowing, and you get the stroller going one way through a huge slushy puddle, then IT IS VERY STRESSFUL when the dog decides, all of a sudden, to bolt in a completely different direction.

There is a woman in our neighborhood who is always walking her (larger than Ada) dog while pushing a stroller and accompanied by two other small children.  She always seems like a Very Angry sort of person.  On mornings like this, I understand why.

the politics

To try to minimize the intrusions of political ruminations into Elliot's blog, this is just a link to a few pre-super-tuesday thoughts.

--s